The Crooked Man

Come to;

back in the old place.

Each heartbeat,

 sweats and staggers,

the vision;

a tilted view.

The story

of a crooked man.

 

He went down to the shore

to wallow in his discontentm

drinking seawater

to stave off the scourge

of sanity.

He never noticed,

the figure standing idly by,

watching his distemper

with a long and patient eye.

 

Even when the heavens opened,

he stood under the clouds

and let the rain come down upon him.

The whole town could hear him shout

and watch through parted shades,

him shuffling crookedly by

as he passed,

the unseen figure followed.

His constant companion;

unacknowledged.

 

Back to his ramshackle house,

he’d try to rest,

but sleep came like a thief

to steal away what consciousness he had

and leave him

with nightmares

and screams;

trapped between gritted teeth.

 

All the while,

the tall and silent figure,

stood at the foot of the bed

and watched him;

waiting, guarding, or perhaps,

just curiously observing,

the crooked man’s fitful slumber.

 

One bright morning,

the neighborhood was buzzing

with the story

of a tall and dark figure

that walked up into the sky

at the stroke of midnight.

Walking with him,

was a young man;

bearing more than a passing semblance

to their crotchety old neighbor,

who, it was found,

to have passed on in his bed.

 

No longer would the crooked man

stand upon the shore;

throwing curses at the sky

and drinking seawater

to quiet the memories in his head.

Gone on a last, long walk;

his silent companion by his side.

Off, into the night time sky;

straight as an arrow

to a crooked eye.

 

HG – 2017

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